Flood

by Maria Quinn

  You can’t be jailed for hoping.

  My eyes dart back to the road. I focus on an object the sky’s spotlight is aimed at. When I get closer, the smell hits me first. I look; road kill.

  One sign canceled by another; back to square one.

  I find no signs before making it to Lea’s house. As soon as I roll in the roars of barking starts. I step out of my car only to be attacked by droll and most likely fleas.

  “Down! Go inside idiots!” Lea commands her dogs. She looks to me, “They’re so stupid! You’ve only been here a billion times!” She throws her hands up dumbfounded.

  I shrug having no answers for her.

  “How’d you make it after the cops came last night?” She asks.

  “I ran for it.” I lie. “You?”

  “Ran too, I think that was everyone’s mode of transportation.” She chuckles.

  We head inside.

  “What about Greg?” I ask, closing the door behind me.

  “Same as us.” She says. “So how’s your day? Hungover?” She throws me a Coke from the fridge.

  “Nope, didn’t drink.”

  “Okay…then what’s with you?” She gleams.

  “Wh..what do you mean?” I stutter opening my soda.

  “I don’t know, you just seem weird today.”

  “Don’t I every day? And who are you to judge—you pregnant yet?”

  Silence.

  “Sorry,” I apologize, “It’s just my mom, and then I got pulled over and I’m achy-“

  “Pulled over?” She cuts me off.

  “Uh, yeah. Before you texted me.”

  “For what?”

  “Speeding.”

  “Speed kills April.” She downs her Coke.

  “Oh shut up.” I sneer, sitting down on the sofa.

  “How much you owe?” She asks turning on the television.

  “Nothing. I…uh…got let off with a warning. What are we doing today, beach day again?” I try to change the subject.

  “Who pulled you over?” She asks, already knowing the answer.

  I fidget with my feet.

  “James!” She exclaims. “It was James wasn’t it!” She moreover states.

  Here we go.

  “He wants you April, face it. And he’s hot so you should let him.”

  Appalled I glare at her, “He doesn’t want me, he’s out to get me! He is everywhere!”

  “Well duh, he wants to get you for himself, and this is a small town if you haven’t noticed.”

  “Lea…” I say letting her know she should shut up.

  She sighs giving up, and we begin rummaging for our swimsuits in her closet.

  I wish I could tell her everything, but I would like to forget some of the things I want to tell. So maybe not talking about it would let it drift from my memory. And I do have to be careful about what I say to Lea, her mind may manifest it into some paranoid fantasy. And she would do something; something terrible. She controls herself as well as I do.

  We see the same doctor, anyway.

  It’s no coincidence we’re friends, our mothers met while taking us to psychiatric appointments and forced us on playdates since the other kids thought we were weird and contagious. We hated each other at first out of spite for our situations, but that evolved into hating everyone else together for hating us. So much hate to go around, it was more frustration, anger, and confusion than hate, but hating was easier to deal with and easier to do.

  11

  Kiddie pool, sprinklers, and virgin mimosas; this is as close to the beach we can get around here, and we do it pretty well. Lea adjusts her pineapple sunglasses against the glaring sun as she bobs her head singing along to Bob Marley music blasting out of the radio. Her mother made us wear inner tubes In case we fell asleep in the pool again; the island life is quite relaxing. Worried my flamingo inner tube is going to leave drastic tan lines on my fair skin, I jump out and roll onto a rainbow-tinted beach towel and sip my sunset-hued drink while Lea talks about the last days of school.

  School—the cringe-worthy word I did not want to hear on my faux island vacation, yet it’s the one thing Lea loves to spatter on about. As if being mental isn’t enough I had the pleasure of having a school audience to watch my embarrassing turbulence growing up. Not only do they know everything about me my antics have been twisted by gossip, rendering me naked when I freed the birds, when in reality I was dressed like a badass ninja. Gossip has also accused, tried, and judged me as the murderer of that gang from a while back when I in actuality just helped a dying man I found in the woods.

  “I just wish I could see Janie Bells baby before we leave…” Lea continues on her babbling about missing school.

  Janie is the towns favored teacher, including my own, and was always the one to turn to if you had a problem. My problems were many as they were strange, yet she always found a way to abate my worries, even when there were bugs in my skin. She once stopped government agents from abducting Lea, at least that's how she foretells it.

  “Me too.” I agree, watching her roll out onto her towel as well, spilling out half the kiddie pool.

  As the summer heat proves too intense and starts to burn us, we relinquish our beach and head inside for the day.

  * * *

  9:35 pm rolls around. We have wasted the whole day watching trash TV and gorging on Doritos. A perfect end to a not so perfect day. And a great way to end the week.

  She clicks off the TV and grabs the last crumbs from the bag. “I’m so happy!”

  “Um, okay,” I say stunned by this change of pace.

  “Well come on! It’s the last week of school, for like ever!”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “How could you forget?” She shouts.

  I think back to the party, “Well, you know. I guess I’m trying to block out school to make room for new memories.”

  That didn’t sound too bad.

  “Well, you’re starting a little early.” She rolls up the empty bag filling the room with the sound of firecrackers.

  “It’s never too early to plan for good things.” I smile, really thinking about the sentiment.

  “Like…making out with James?”

  “That’s it,” I say, my words laced with fire.

  The room erupts with screams and rocketing pillows.

  Laughing feels wonderful.

  “Stop it April! Stop!” She gasps in between howls of laughter.

  “I told you to shut up about that crap!” I fling the pillow hard at the side of her face.

  She tosses herself back and raises a hand, “Okay okay! Sorry, no more. I promise.”

  Lies.

  Sitting back down I cautiously eye her while keeping a firm grip on my pillow, ready to suffocate her if she utters another word.

  “So.” I begin.

  “So…” She starts, fixing her hair. “What are you gonna miss most?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Well besides you, nothing.”

  She cheers up. “I think I might kind of miss…everyone from school a little bit.”

  “What?” I snap.

  “Well not really the everybody, just seeing most of them all the time.”

  “I’ll be content to never see those people again; I don’t know why you would either.”

  “People change April, I think they’ve matured some since back then.”

  The names they called us itch my skin like fresh memories.

  “Whatever. You should move away with me and make new friends.” I offer.

  “My life is here.” She says firmly.

  “Get a new one.”

  “Did you just tell me to get a life?”

  “No, I suggested one.

  “I think you need to deal with the one you have.”

  “Why should I?” I don’t particularly enjoy where this conversation is heading.

  “Running away isn’t going to solve anything.”

  “Like you have room to talk! You
ran away so many times I—”

  She cut me off. “This isn’t about me, it’s about you and how you deal, or rather don’t deal with your problems.”

  “I’m not running away, I’m starting a new life. Everyone does it.”

  “Oh well, since everyone’s doing it…”

  She is really pressing my buttons now.

  I look away.

  Silence.

  “Sorry.” She says. “I just wish you would think about what all you’re leaving behind.”

  I have, more than she knows. “I wish you would just come with me.”

  “Where?”

  “Anywhere but here.”

  “Some plan. And you know I can’t go, I can’t be alone.”

  “Aren’t I enough?”

  “Two crazy people living together scares me. Remember our last fight?”

  “That pillow fight?”

  She smirks, “No, the one where the kitchen caught fire?”

  My cheeks burn hot. “Oh, yeah. But, I’m not really crazy I’m just moody.”

  “Moody enough to set my house on fire?”

  “It was an accident! At least I don’t build bombs to blow up cats because I think they’re stealing my Chex Mix!”

  “Hey! I was off my meds, that’s different!”

  Our words are lead boots in a minefield.

  Why is it so hard to have relationships with people? Everyone else seems to have it down but me.

  “Just forget it,” I say. “Change the subject.”

  We recline back in her dilapidated green sofa and think of what to say next that won’t cause a fight.

  “You going to give any farewell hugs to teachers?” She asks.

  I laugh; it’s not even a real question.

  “Not even Mr. Miller?” She smiles wryly.

  “Gross!” I below, appalled. “I swear he’s a pedophile.”

  “He is pretty freaking creepy. And he definitely has the pedophile look down. Have you seen how he stares at you?”

  “Me? He looks at everyone like we have candy glued to our face.”

  “But you’re his Twix.”

  “Oh my gosh, shut up. You’re so paranoid.”

  “I’m serious, if you won’t date James, I would ask him out. He is pretty hot, even though he’s a creeper.”

  “You are such a freak. Your taste in men is almost as bad as your breath.”

  That got her to shut up.

  She covers her mouth. “I just ate Doritos!” She shoots into the kitchen to grab a coke.

  I follow.

  She chugs it like an open drain and breathes in my face as proof that it doesn’t smell all the time. I cringe leaning against the counter and glance at her clock.

  “It’s late,” I say. I’m gonna get going.”

  Un-pocketing my keys on the way out Lea calls to me, “If you get lonely, just speed and let James catch you!” She slams the door and locks it in fear of retaliation.

  I will get her back.

  12

  I arrive home revived after talking with Lea, even if it was a battle, its proof I can have some sort of relationship with people. Inside I’m welcomed by the scent of eighty cats.

  Lovely.

  Stopping to listen; I hear water running, dishes clanking in the kitchen, TV on—dinner is over.

  “Have you cleaned the litter box today?” I stop halfway up the stairs to ask.

  “Um, I told you too.” My mom replies, as if she honestly believes asking someone to do something means it will automatically get done. “Where are my keys?”

  The water stops.

  She appears from around the corner holding a towel.

  I hand them to her. She smells of sponges and lemon as she grabs them.

  “There might be a dent from the guardrail I ran into.” I half-lie.

  “I think there is a dent in your brain honey.” She fleetingly smiles and saunters off.

  Well obviously.

  Doesn’t she know me?

  I continue to my room where my bed commands me to sleep. I fall into my ocean, the only place I won’t drown. In the warm safety of my covers I retrieve my journal to carve order from chaos once again.

  I had a good day of embarrassment today, having a meltdown in front of James and all. He’s kind, but he needs to take his compassion and understanding somewhere else. I don’t need to fall in love, that’s one more emotion to sink me, I need stability. Besides, Lea can have him. He can keep her busy with his generosity when I’m gone. I’m going to start over, not run away; Lea is wrong. I just know a fresh start is what I need, where no one knows who I am, I’ll be happy for once, I’ll be motivated to live. Everyone here will forget me, they’ve already started. People use to avoid me, now they rush past like strangers. I don’t know which is worst. I feel like a ship left to rust on the shores of an abandoned island, everyone is moving forward with their lives while I’m falling apart from a slow degradation, a cancer eating away at my scaffolding, and soon I will collapse into metallic dust. That’s the one good thing about James though, he makes me feel wanted, but it’s not real, it's pity, and that is what pisses me off.

  Being forgotten is worse the more I think about it; I would like to be remembered, just not for what they remember me by now. Maybe I should change that before I leave. I gave up a few years ago, I just don’t know if being remembered is reason enough to take it back. But leaving this world without a trace is a hard aspect to face.

  Sometimes it's like I'm having an out of body experience, I'm watching myself and my life go on, but I'm not actually in it. Like I'm watching tv, flipping through the channels of mindless daily routines, unable to participate. I tap the glass of the screen trying to get back in, I want to change what I see, I want to get back in, but I don't know how. Maybe I can break it; I look around for something to grab, but there’s nothing.

  I feel like a hermit. I miss running, and hiking, and talking. I miss laughing the most. Its’ my entire fault I guess; I use to think the surrounding mountains were a jail, but really it’s these four walls. And the shame is there is a door to the outside world right in front of me. I’ve walked through it hundreds of times, but I’ve never really stepped through it. Maybe I should tomorrow.

  I will take the first step tomorrow.

  I will be remembered.

  13

  Meandering through the trees the silence of snowfall invades my senses. When the wind picks up the snow bites my skin as I walk into a clearing. But this isn't a clearing in the middle of the forest, it's a frozen lake, and it's slowly cracking underneath my weight. The cracks spider web across the partially snow-covered surface, snapping like broken glass, the pieces shifting underfoot. Wavering on whether to slowly slide back to safety or rabbit as fast as I can, my indecision takes too long and I plunge through the ice. Instantly hypothermic in the dark blue depths I quickly try to swim to the surface with my numb limbs. The closer I come to the surface the faster it freezes over. When I reach the top, it's thick and glassy with no escape. There's no escape, there's never any way to escape. And I wake up in a cold sweat as usual

  * * *

  Fighting the light, my blanket’s security diminishes, and the morning wins once again. I awake exhausted; more nightmares—first drowning and then the man with no face. But the sun doesn’t care, and the world keeps turning. I need to get up and keep pace this time before it leaves me behind. Sitting up I squint my eyes at the glare penetrating my blinds. The sun-filled sky is a siren song that promises peace, but not far in the distance are heavy clouds. I love summer rains, but not when I have to trudge miles home through them. No matter, I get ready anyway.

  Today is a good day. Today I will be remembered by someone. I will smile at someone and they will think, “Hey! That stranger just smiled at me, I’ll never forget that.” Hopefully, no one goes over the top and actually tries to converse with me. I'm not exactly marvelous at discourse; I must have missed that lesson when learning to read and write.

&nb
sp; I put up my long curly hair because I don’t feel like losing another battle this morning, especially to a brush. Maybe a dress will make me memorable…no. I throw on my favorite black skinny jeans and a flower print top I just found in the back of my closet. I scan my closet, then my room; I need to clean. I could probably build a replica of the mountains outside with all the clothes on my floor. I step over my clothes and through my door, for real this time, and set out to make my day.

  14

  I meet up with Lea and Greg dragging themselves to school as usual. I put on a complaisant smile, but it doesn’t feel like mine. I hope I’m doing something right with my life, not just pretending to be something I’m not. Hopefully, no one sees right through me.

  “Hey,” I say catching up with them.

  “Hey.” They both say in unison.

  “So I heard Austin got arrested the other night and his parents are flying in early to bail him out.” Lea starts.

  My skin tightens.

  “His house got wicked trashed,” Greg says.

  “Yeah, along with half the people from our school.”Lea snickers.

  They look at me as if I’m transparent. Then I realize I should be laughing too, but it’s a little late, so I feign a smile.

  “You alright?” Greg asks.

  “Just tired. I can’t wait for this week to end.”

  “Agreed.” Lea confirms, “Last week of school is just a fake week. We don’t do anything, just clean out our lockers and desks so they don’t have to pay the janitors extra to do it.”

  We swept up the school stairs as the bell chimes the students in.

  We begin to separate when Greg nudges me, “Hey, I have tons of new photos for you to look at. Come check them out some time, maybe you could paint one of ‘em, like you use too.” He says wistfully.